Diablo: Demonsbane
by Earthbornwarrior
Summary: First serious fic. Not much now but if I have time I will post more. R&R please! Chapter 2 is up.
1. Chapter 1: Tristram

'What are we doing here?' asked Clayton, leaning slightly on his shield

'I thought as a Paladin, you would be eager to help cleanse the evil scourge of Diablo to uphold the Light and all that crap.' came the reply from Tilling

'Yea, but why are we here?' asked Clayton again, pointing to the village just before the rise they were on

'Because your Archbishop apparently released Diablo from his bondage in this village. Now Diablo is lurking somewhere, we just need some info and we'll hunt the demon down.'

'If we need to go down there, we better get moving. It's getting dark and from what we've heard there are hordes of demons that come out when it gets dark around here.' said Tom, a little way down the hill

'Yea, let's get moving.' agreed Mikhail as everyone shouldered their packs once again and made for the village.

These four people called themselves the Demonsbane Mercenaries and they were fairly good at what they did. What they did was hire themselves out to people who needed some mercenaries to kill demons or undead or sometimes even animals that caused them harm. Tilling and Mikhail were both Necromancers, Clayton a Paladin and Tom was a Sorcerer. They were all tall, Tilling being the tallest at 6'2'' and Mikhail being the shortest at 6' exact. Tom and Clayton were both 6'1''. They were all well equipped: Tilling and Mikhail both wearing chain mail and using daggers, Clayton with his full plate, kite shield and long sword customary to Paladins and Tom wore simple robes but, unusually for a mage of any sort, wielded dual blades both about a foot long, flat and sharp. Nothing had stood in their way before and they all felt that attempting to defeat Diablo was the challenge they had to stand up to.

They wandered into the town just as it was getting dark. They searched around a bit and found an inn to stay in while they fought. After setting their packs in their rooms they decided to head down to the common room for a meal and some company. In the common room they found many other adventurers, mages, mercenaries you name it. The place was packed with many people who had come to try and defeat Diablo. The four of them got some food and beer and decided to sit in a corner.

'Ugh, so many people here trying to kill Diablo... it's insane.' muttered Tom

'Heh, it'll thin out a bit once they start plumbing the depths of wherever he is.' came Mikhail's quick reply

'Ehn, makes no difference to me how many people come, so long as I get a fair bit of treasure!' said Tilling

'So you're not doing this for the profit of upholding the Light?' asked Clayton

'Come on now! You've known me for a while, haven't you? I decided to be a part of this group in the first place because of all the treasure we could get!' replied Tilling with a glint in his eye

'Yea, I think you're the only one of us who's doing this for the Light first and the treasure second.' commented Tom

'Just think of the aid we're giving to the heavens as... a bonus. If there was a better paying job that we were good at we would drop this whole Mercenary shtick and take that job in an instant.' said Mikhail

Clayton sighed. 'There just aren't enough people who would help others just for the sake of it anymore...'

'Be glad there still are people who would help others and don't worry about the conditions.' replied Tilling

'I guess so.' said Clayton as he drained his mug 'I'm getting some rest, it's gonna be tough killing Diablo if even half the stories we've heard are true.'

'Yea, I think I'd better get some sleep too.' said Mikhail as he followed Clayton down the hall

'So what are you going to do?' asked Tom 'I hope it doesn't have anything to do with plundering the town as it sleeps.'

'No, no... I'm just going to ask the locals about how things have been going. The only reason I stole everything from that encampment back in Kehjistan was because they had stolen it from us in the first place.' laughed Tilling

'That is true... and a good idea, I'll come with you.' replied Tom

The two disentangled themselves from all the other people in the inn and paid for their meal. The cool night air hit them as they exited the building and looked around.

'Who do you think we should approach first?' wondered Tilling

'I think we should talk to him.' answered Tom as he pointed to an old man

'Why do you think so? He doesn't look like much of an adventurer.'

'Look at his clothes, they appear to Horadric vestry. If anyone would know anything, it would be him.'

The pair walked over the man who was leaning on a walking staff and appeared to have his attention focused somewhere else.

'Excuse me' Tom said 'would you happen to be a Horadric sage?'

'Why, yes I am.' the old man replied 'my name is Deckard Cain. How are you two?' he politely inquired

'We're fine' was Tom's reply

'I suppose you're here to fight the demons that plague us.'

'Correct. We could use some help, though.'

'What kind of help? I am only a sage, a scholar if you will. I cannot fight nor do I sell gear of war.'

'We don't need weapons' cut in Tilling 'we need some information about what has been happening.'

'Well, what do you need?'

'Firstly,' said Tom 'what is this place called?'

'You are in the town of Tristram.'

'How long has Diablo been released from his Soulstone?'

'Oh, I can't say. Time has seemed to run together in our fear. Days have passed like nothing and the only real difference between them is new people come to fight the demon, and some die...'

'Anything else that we should know?' asked Tilling

'There is one person, we never caught his name. He seems to be so calm and focused, as if nothing could deter him from this. It is as if he is marked to carry out this fate. If you were to ever see him, you would know.'

'Thank you, wise Deckard Cain. You are a tremendous help to us.' said Tom politely, bowing slightly

'Oh, think nothing of it. I am always glad to help. However, I would like to know your names...' Cain said with a searching gaze

'Of course, my name is Tom, my silent companion here is Tilling. We have two other people helping us; their names are Clayton and Mikhail.'

'I see... well Tom, Tilling; I bid you god night!'

'And the same to you...'

'So, he wasn't much help.' said Tilling as they walked away

'Give your head a shake! He told us plenty IF you knew how to see it.'

'Such as...'

'That man he told us about. Did you see how he looked when he talked about him? It just doesn't seem right...'

'You're worrying about nothing. Just forget about it.'

'Well, we could put my theory to the test. That looks like him right there.'

A man stood by the local blacksmith, haggling over the price of repairs for his equipment. They apparently came to a deal as he turned around and left his things with the blacksmith as he walked away.

'Hey! You! Wait up!' shouted Tom

The man froze in mid-step and turned slowly. It was difficult to tell what he looked like; his face was half-hidden in shadow. One feature stood out remarkably, though. His eyes glittered, as if there was some other will behind them.

'Yes?' he asked slowly

'What is your name?' asked Tom

'My name...? Just call me... the Wanderer. That is what everyone else does…'

'Thank you. Wanderer, are you here to slay Diablo?'

'Yes, I am. Why do you ask?'

'Just simply curious. It is interesting how this many people could have been coming for so long and not been able to slay him yet.'

'Yes, he is a very strong foe. I'm afraid I must be going now. I am sorry to cut our conversation short.'

'Oh, not a problem. I hope to see you soon.'

The Wanderer turned away without comment. Tom turned to Tilling and opened his mouth to speak but he shut it out of shock. Tilling stood there, rigid with his jaw set. Unable, it seemed, to move.

'He definitely is something else...' he said finally 'we had better keep an eye on him, I don't trust him at all.'

'I felt something too. Vaguely, though.'

'There is something else controlling him. I don't know what but I doubt it is for his well being.'

'Regardless, we should get some sleep. It must be nearly midnight.'

'Yes... let's go.'

They hurried back to the inn and didn't speak to anyone for the rest of the night. Tilling relaxed the grip on his dagger only once they were inside the inn. He would be a one to watch if he wasn't killed, that Wanderer...


	2. Chapter 2: The Wanderer

An earsplitting, earthshaking roar filled Tristram late in the night. As the windows fell out of their panes and rickety buildings collapsed, some thought they heard a young child crying amongst the roar. As it died down, the inhabitants gathered around the opening to the catacombs created by Diablo's demonic powers. All hoped that what they thought had finally come to pass. They had stood around the gaping doorway for over an hour when they finally heard the first sound since the hellish cry died down. The sound of boots walking across the stones in the passage, accompanied by the dragging of a sword on the ground got louder and louder, until the Wanderer himself appeared in the doorway. It was still fairly dark so the shadows of the night threw everything into ghastly relief. He was wounded in several places, his sword was notched and the mail of his armor was trailing loose. His face was the worst sight to behold; he was covered with his own blood and the blood of his enemies. His face, which seemed so youthful and full of life only hours before, was lined and weary. It was no surprise; he had probably traveled through Hell itself. But what startled everyone the most was that he had a mark on his forehead, that looked as if he had been gored there except he couldn't have; the would had already healed. His eyes were wild, in stark contrast to the calm radiance they had before, and darted this way and that, as if to look fearfully for a way to escape. Nothing about him, not the state of his equipment, not the mark on his forehead, not even the way his eyes twitched everywhere, prepared them for the expression on his lips and deep in his eyes. It was an expression triumph, but a triumph that seemed to be not for the Wanderer or for Tristram or even for Sanctuary. The expression looked as if the first great hurdle of some well laid out plan had been passed, and it was a triumph that would hurt the world in the end.

But nonetheless, the Wanderer was greeted warmly and congratulated. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Diablo had been killed, and the Wanderer confirmed this, pulling one of the demon's hands out of his pack. There was a celebration of great proportions for that evening being planned, but the Wanderer told them he needed rest.

"It's not as if Diablo is going to return! We can wait the rest of the night." he said

So everyone decided that the celebration would happen as soon as the Wanderer woke up and came out of his lodging.

"He's probably snapped, not surprising considering he's been through Hell itself." said Clayton in the pub an hour later "I don't think anyone would come out the same after delving as deep as he did."

"Who is he, anyway?" asked Mikahail

"He said to simply call him the Wanderer." replied Tom "And a Horadric sage directed us to him."

"Who?" asked Clayton

"Deckard Cain" said Tilling "he's the one the Wanderer kept giving funny looks."

"How do you know he's a Horadrim? I thought they were all dead." asked Clayton

"Don't the Zakarum teach you anything?" asked Tom in return "The Horadrim were one of the most powerful mage clans in all of Sanctuary. They bound the Three into their Soulstones."

"I know what they did, and I know who they were" said Clayton "all I was wondering was how you knew he was a Horadrim."

"In all the formal mage clans, you learn about the great times of the mage clans in the past. They also taught us what they were like, what they wore… kind of like a history class" replied Tom

"Well, I guess it's time to turn in... anyone else coming?" said Clayton

"Yeah, I'm going to go back to sleep too." came the general reply as the other three drained their mugs and paid the bartender.

The next morning dawned brighter than it had since Diablo was released. Everyone got better rest than they had ever had and even the animals seemed at ease, until the Wanderer came around. Nobody could place it but they all seemed ill at ease when he came around and the feeling passed as soon as he left. That night, the celebration began. There were mountains of food, kegs upon kegs of beer and caskets of wine to fill a river. The singing and dancing was the best that recent memory could account for and everyone had a good time. Except the Wanderer. He seemed numb to the jubilation around him and, later in the night when everyone was a little lightheaded from the drink, he slipped off. Afterwards, most of the other would-be heroes left except the Wanderer and the four who first marked him as suspicious. As they watched him, he seemed to slip deeper and deeper into a brooding depression as he became more and more of a recluse. Now the feeling of unease spread so that you knew he was coming before you heard or saw him. Most believed that he was just getting over the shock and horror of fighting the demons but some began to whisper of possession. Eventually, another celebration was planned in his honor but as before, he slipped off without anyone noticing. The next morning he left without being seen by anyone.

"Deckard Cain, a moment please." Called Tom as he hurried to see the sage

"Yes, what is it my friend?" replied Cain

"Do you happen to know what became of the Wanderer? Everyone is concerned that something dreadful has happened."

"Well last night, before he left, I found him at his home we had given him. He seemed... disturbed. He was muttering and rocking back and forth in his doorframe. I was about to leave for help when he spoke to me.

"His voice was harsh and uneven but the words were clear: 'I must leave this place. I must find my brothers in the East. Their chains will bind no longer.' As you can guess I was thoroughly unsettled by this."

He looked as if he wanted to tell Tom something else but doubt held him back.

"Anyway, he's gone to the East. Most likely he will end up in Rouge Territory. After that, I am uncertain. Why do you ask?"

"Thank you, Deckard Cain. I ask because my friends and I feel uneasy around him, and his spontaneous absence is suspicious."

At that point, Deckard Cain opened his mouth to say more, but was cut off by an unearthly cry. Whipping their heads around, both of them saw several demons coming over the ridge. They stood open-mouthed until the Horadric Sage came to his senses.

"Run! Get your companions and run! There is now no doubt in my mind!" cried Cain

"What? What do you mean?" shouted Tom as he ran with him towards the house where the others were.

"When I spoke to the Wanderer last night, I thought I saw his wound reopened..."

"The one on his forehead?"

"The very same. I thought I saw within it a shard of Diablo's Soulstone. It's obvious now; the Wanderer has been controlled all this time!"

"So that's why we all felt that strange feeling, it was a demonic aura! Why are you telling us to run?"

"Because," Cain said as they screeched to a halt "you four seem to be on the same level as the Wanderer was when he first came. I believe that if anyone can stop him, you can. Maybe not now but Diablo being free means more of this" he gestured to the hordes approaching the town "will be happening. Once you find him, you should be ready. Go now!"

"Deckard Cain, I most humbly thank you for what you have done."

"Then waste no more time! Flee as far as you can!"

A half hour and a brief skirmish later, the four of them were out of Tristram and making for the eastward road as fast as they could. None of them could believe this: they came for fame and fortune, they ended up fighting for all humanity.


End file.
